


sleeping beauty syndrome

by marshmall0



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: (Briefly mentioned) - Freeform, (kind of), Come Swallowing, Facials, Frottage, M/M, Mako Poisoning (Compilation of FFVII), Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, Zack is freshly traumatized & been alone for too long & the Jenova cells are NOT helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmall0/pseuds/marshmall0
Summary: The tent in Cloud’s pants is not because he’s aroused. It’s just a physiological response. Just like waking up with a stiffy. Use it or lose it.Zack realizes his mouth has gone oddly dry as he thinks this over. His pulse stutters in his ears.There’s no reason to be weird about this. He’d just be giving Cloud a helping hand. Almost too literally. That idiom might have been a poor choice of words. But still — Cloud is his friend, and he’s taking care of him, and he could take care of this too.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	sleeping beauty syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> *drops this & runs*
> 
> hope y'all enjoy :)

Zack tries to find something to be grateful for each day. He’s an optimist — he doesn’t like focusing on the negatives. If he started dwelling about all the bad in his life, he might have to just give up, sit down, and have a good cry. So he doesn’t! He can’t. Instead, he hums thoughtfully and looks around. Today, he’s grateful for: the warm feeling of sunshine on his skin, the sound of birdsong that surrounds them, and the way that Cloud is responsive enough to swallow even when poisoned practically to death by mako.

It’s nice to have a buddy. Zack might go crazy if he didn’t have anyone to talk to. And sure, Cloud isn’t the best conversational partner right now, but he’d never been super talkative even before —

So it’s fine.

He sighs a little bit and lowers the canteen from Cloud’s lips, wiping the other man’s mouth drywith the back of his wrist.

“You ready to get back on the road, bud?” he asks with forced cheer. “I know you’re beat, but we gotta keep moving.”

Cloud doesn’t respond, but Zack hauls him back up to his feet anyway. The day that Cloud wakes up and gives him one of those sheepish smiles again — that will be at the _top_ of his gratitude list. It can’t come soon enough.

* * *

If it weren’t for Cloud, he probably would have stopped fighting a long time ago. Not that he’d ever let himself be dragged back into Hojo’s den of mad science. Maybe he would have just rolled over and died in a bush somewhere. Or… maybe, during any of his many brushes with Shinra, he would have taken things into his own hands with the Buster Sword and followed Angeal into an honorable death. He hadn’t understood it in Wutai — the other side’s preference for death over capture. He understands it now.

But he can’t do that with Cloud there depending on him — both as a friend and a commanding officer, though their bond goes beyond military responsibility now. Maybe it’s the isolation. Maybe it’s the torture. But something changed in the labs; they aren’t just friends anymore. They’re bound together by more than that. Bound together by mako or by trauma, maybe. For whatever reason — he can’t stand the idea of leaving Cloud all alone in the world, completely defenseless.

He does his best, but there are many days where his best doesn’t feel like enough.

He feeds Cloud, though at first there is a lot of trial and error. Cloud can swallow, the reflex still ingrained, but it doesn’t seem like he can chew. Jerky — of which Zack has plenty, since he had _liberated_ as much as he could carry from the first general store they had come across ( _sorry, Angeal)_ —is out of the question. Unless he wanted to pre-soften it in his own mouth before feeding it to Cloud like a baby bird. Zack’s nose scrunches up at the thought. That definitely seems like it’d be crossing a line.

Over a few days, Zack figures out what works best.

When they are in the wild: fish, root vegetables, and berries.

Fish, when he can catch it, is soft and easily broken up with his fingers once cooked. He can press the small pieces into Cloud’s mouth, towards the back of his throat, where Cloud can then safely swallow them. Sometimes Cloud swallows around Zack’s fingers. The sensation of his throat fluttering around him makes his mouth go weirdly dry.

Zack tries not to let that happen after the second or third time. Tries not to think about it.

Root vegetables work just as well. Potatoes are cheap (which makes Zack feel better that they won’t be missed, because, again, he’s using the five-fingered discount wherever he can) and easy to cook, burying them near their small fire until they’re soft enough to be smushed and fed in the same manner. Soft berries and fruit work well too, but they’re harder to find, especially in the colder weather.

When they stop by a town, Zack looks for soup, applesauce, and — after seeing a mother feed her fussy infant — baby food. It’s not exactly gourmet cuisine, but he figures there’s more dignity in being spoon-fed than having Zack’s fingers in his mouth.

They don’t stop in to towns often, though. It’s too dangerous to be seen by anyone, even in the most remote towns. They’re too distinctive. Shinra is still on high alert looking for their ‘dangerous escaped lab samples’, after all. 

So for the most part, they stick to the wilderness, surviving off whatever Zack can carry. The ground is uncomfortable and cold, and the pickings are lean, but at least it’s safe.Unfortunately staying away from civilization means staying away from things like plumbing. Zack has roughed it before — but bathing in icy mountain streams never becomes any more pleasant to do. 

Right now, they’re both pretty ripe. Ugh. Probably due for one soon.

Zack sighs and they stumble forwards until he finds a quiet spot in a creek.

“Hey, Cloudy, how do you feel about a bath?” he asks, forcing a smile. “I know I reek, could use one myself. You’d probably appreciate one too, yeah?”

He carefully shucks Cloud out of his hand-me-down uniform. Maneuvering him out of the sweater is always difficult. Wriggling him out of his pants is easier mechanically but — it’s another thing that makes Zack’s mouth go dry and his pulse stutter. It’s awkward. He hopes Cloud is okay with it. He tries not to look.

But, well, _someone_ has to bathe Cloud. 

Then he can lay Cloud carefully on the edge of the bank, his legs dangling lifelessly into the water. He thoroughly scrubs the pale skin of his calves and thighs before wiping everything else down with a wet rag. Zack is unwilling to submerge him more fully in the water. Early on, Cloud had almost slipped under.He hadn’t even made a sound; Zack had only seen it — and stopped him from disappearing under the waves _forever_ —by chance. It’s not a risk he wants to take again.

He pours cupped handfuls of cold water carefully into Cloud’s hair, tries to scrub his hair and scalp free of any oils and dirt without any soap or shampoo. It seems like it works well enough. It has been a long time since they have had access to proper hair products, but Cloud’s hair is still stubborn enough to stick up in messy cowlicks and spikes. 

Then Zack finds a spot to nestle Cloud in, close enough that he can keep an eye on him from the water. He’ll let Cloud dry off while he bathes himself.

He takes a deep breath to steel himself before he submerges himself fully. The chill of the water sinks down deep into him, all the way into his bones. He was used to washing up in the elements even before, when hewas on missions, but sometimes he thinks he’d kill for a hot shower. The showers in the Shinra building were incredible; thanks to mako, they never ran out of hot water.

He scrubs himself clean, almost rough in his speed, not wanting to spend too much time apart from Cloud. It makes him nervous, even though he can still see him right there on the shore. After these months on the run, always in close contact, it just feels weird without him there by his side.

When he finishes drying and redressing them both, it’s back on the road to find somewhere to camp for the night. He doesn’t like to stay close to the water — it’s too easy to be followed that way. The Turks are still hunting them, after all. He drags Cloud along with him, supporting his slight weight and watching the way that his legs stumble underneath them.

He talks to him, too. He’s _constantly_ talking to Cloud. He kind of hopes that the sound of his voice will help lead Cloud out of his comatose state. It’s kind of a silly, wishful thought. But Zack clings to it anyways as he narrates their day — sings sometimes, either songs he learned from SOLDIER or silly little nonsense jingles he makes up on the spot— and mumbles stupid platitudes to Cloud — and chatters on and on about what life will be like when they can finally settle down for more than a night or two.

So he takes care of Cloud, and Cloud’s quiet company takes care of him in its own way.

* * *

At night, Zack curls his body around Cloud, manipulating the smaller man into a more comfortable position. It’s not a cuddle — they’re just sharing body heat. It’s the most efficient way to keep warm with only the one thin bedroll. If having Cloud so close helps Zack feel reassured that Cloud isn’t going to roll away during the night… if Zack likes slinging his arm over the smallest part of Cloud’s waist… then that’s a bonus.

He adjusts slightly, the movement jostling Cloud. The blonde rolls over a bit from the force, and Zack’s hand shoots out to catch him. Gotta keep him as comfortable as possible. And his hand — well, he _accidentally_ brushes over something he wasn’t expecting to find.

Oh.

Zack’s not some backwaters kid anymore — he’s a SOLDIER. He knows that — y’know, being erect didn’t mean someone was turned on. Sometimes a breeze just blows by wrong. Sometimes a man’s dick thinks for himself and decides to pop up and say hello for no good reason.

The tent in Cloud’s pants is _not_ because he’s aroused. It’s just a physiological response. Just like waking up with a stiffy. Use it or lose it.

Zack realizes his mouth has gone oddly dry as he thinks this over. His pulse stutters in his ears.

There’s no reason to be weird about this. He’d just be giving Cloud a helping hand. Almost too literally. That idiom might have been a poor choice of words. But still — Cloud is his friend, and he’s taking care of him, and he could take care of this too.

He doesn’t wrestle with himself about it after that. Anyways, what’s a handy between friends? Cloud would do the same for him. Maybe.

Zack tugs Cloud’s body into a more comfortable position, laying on his back. And then he’s pulling those stolen fatigues halfway down Cloud’s thighs. After a moment of thought, he rucks Cloud’s sweater up around his armpits — doesn’t want to dirty Cloud’s only shirt. He moves to straddle Cloud’s thighs, sitting upon his legs. He can keep an eye on Cloud like this.

Zack has never actually given a handjob before, though he’s had plenty of practice on himself. He reaches out with only the slightest bit of hesitation before he’s carefully wrapping his hand around Cloud’s cock.

He’s so _warm_. And his skin is so creamy, soft, and smooth. Cloud is smaller than him — which makes sense because Cloud is smaller than him in every other way, too. It’s unexpectedly cute. 

Cloud isn’t fully hard, but he will be soon.There’s something reassuring in the way Zack can feel the blood pulsing through his cock. It’s proof that Cloud’s _alive._ Cloud grows harder in his hand as Zack begins stroking him softly.

He tries to do it the same way he does it for himself, just a little slower and more gently for now since he can’t ask Cloud how he likes it. He twists his wrist at the bottom and runs his thumb over the slit at the top, rubbing the precum there and using it as lube. Cloud is so wet that he’s almost dripping. Is that normal for Cloud, Zack wonders — or is he so slick and wet because of _Zack,_ because Zack is making him feel good?

He wonders suddenly: is he the first person to ever touch Cloud like this?

The thought makes him stroke Cloud harder, and the sensation of that _must_ be good because Cloud’s hips twitch underneath him, and Zack freezes. When he repeats the motion, Cloud lets out a little gasp.

“Cloud?” he asks, peering down at him. “Buddy?”

His eyes remain mako-bright and hollow — unseeing. He isn’t waking up. His breath is coming faster but it’s still so steady, so quiet. Cloud’s slim hips twitch slightly again as Zack continues to stroke him.

When he gasps again, the sound goes straight to Zack’s cock; his pants are growing uncomfortably tight. So he leans back, unbuttons his pants, frees his own dick. The evening air is cool against his skin. His heart is hammering.

He wants to be closer. Something in his blood sings out for Cloud — he desperately wants to touch Cloud more. He hesitates for only a moment before lining himself up against Cloud’s cock. He wraps his hand around both of them at once, stroking once more. Cloud’s skin is so _warm_ against him, and velvety too, and it contrasts with the way his hand is calloused from lugging around the Buster Sword. It feels so fucking good, rubbing up together like this.

When Cloud shudders again, his hips move involuntarily, almost roll against him. It feels so good — there are fireworks behind Zack’s eyes. _Fuck_. His blood feels like it’s on fire, maybe it’s the mako, maybe it’s the five year dry spell he’s breaking, maybe it’s _Cloud_. There’s a groan building up in his chest, needy and wanting and he lets it loose as he too rolls his hips, begins thrusting against Cloud’s cock as he continues stroking them together with one hand. It feels so good to thrust, so close (not close enough by far but so good he can’t make himself stop). He finds himself pressing against Cloud’s bare stomach with his spare hand for the extra skin contact. All he wants is to touch Cloud, he never wants to let go and he never wants to stop touching. If he could get closer — if he knew how — he would. He presses against Cloud harder, each inch of skin-on-skin burning bright and perfect.

“Fuck,” Zack starts to babble, still hoping that his voice will be the siren that leads Cloud out of his fog. “You look so fucking good like this, Cloud, can’t believe I’m doing this, you’re _incredible,_ please, please —“ and he doesn’t even know what he’s begging Cloud for at this point.

He thrusts and strokes in sync and Cloud shudders again, a full-body tremor, and this low sweet sigh catches in his throat, and then the flat planes of his stomach are splattered with his own release. Zack wants to see something ( _anything_ ) spark in those pretty blue eyes — pleasure, anger, even just awareness. His eyes remain blank.

Cloud’s cock is softening now, but Zack is still hard. His breath is growing rough and ragged as Zack continues to roll his hips against him, the pleasure building and building, like a coiled spring growing tighter and tenser against his spine until it’s too much. One more loud keen rips itself from his throat as he spills hard on top of Cloud’s stomach. The sight of their cum together there makes his thoughts swirl. It just seems _right_ somehow, and good, and Zack finds himself dragging his fingers through it.

His breath gradually slows down again; his heart is no longer hammering in his ears, drowning everything else out. Zack feels his brain come back online, just slightly, just enough to remember he should wipe Cloud off and probably get some sleep. He still feels slightly off but not enough to keep him from snuggling tighter into the curve of Cloud’s shoulder and breathe him in.

He doesn’t dream.

* * *

He wakes up in the morning with a start. Cloud is quiet and limp beside him.

Zack should feel guilty — and he does feel guilty, but it’s buried under the heat of something heavy curling up in his gut as he thinks about how Cloud’s stomach had looked, slick with their cum and sweat. Maybe he had crossed some boundaries. But… Cloud had been the most responsive he’s been in months.

He’s been unresponsive for too long. Maybe years, at this point. He has no idea how long they were rotting away in those tanks as the mako burned its way to the core of them. They’ve been on the run for what must have been months now. He isn’t sure when exactly Cloud slipped away. It had been slow. He had gotten quieter. It seemed like he had gradually spent more time asleep in his tube than awake as his eyes grew brighter with poison. And then one day he was just… empty. At first Zack hoped that he’d wake up once freed from the tube. Then maybe once they took their first breaths of fresh air.

He had remained still and silent.

But yesterday that _changed._ Cloud wasn’t just sitting there like a house with the lights on and nobody home. It was honestly relieving — he had been moving and vocalizing and _reacting_. He had moaned and sighed and tensed up, all because Zack had made him feel good.

Zack realizes with a start that he’s half-hard again, thinking about the way Cloud’s hips had trembled underneath him and how his face had flushed.

But at the same time he thinks about the inviting sounds that had spilled from Cloud’s lips. Cloud had wanted him in that moment, even if he didn’t know it. And he wanted Cloud, too. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

* * *

It doesn’t change much.

The only difference is that he lets his hands linger when he touches his waist or the small of his back. Maybe it’s selfish to cling to Cloud for comfort like he’s some kind of living, breathing teddy bear. But they’re touching almost all the time now, since Zack has to help support his weight while they stumble across the continents. The few moments where they aren’t touching just feel _wrong_ , and each brush of skin on skin soothes something deep in his bones. Cloud would be okay with it. He hadn’t been super tactile before but Zack had been, and even then he’d never shrugged off a single one of Zack’s touches. He certainly wasn’t complaining about it now.

Besides — Zack is taking care of Cloud in so many ways. Maybe it could be another way that Cloud takes care of him. He doesn’t even need to do anything except to stay here, in Zack’s arms, quiet and calm as if he were only sleeping. Because Zack needs the comfort of someone else next to him, needs the physical reassurance that he is not alone in the world.

So maybe some wires are getting crossed. Maybe Zack is taking some liberties with Cloud’s boundaries. He certainly isn’t going to quit, because he doesn’t know what else he’d do.

* * *

After the dumpster fire that is Banora — and Genesis, and weirdly enough _Lazard_ — Zack starts dragging the two of them back to Midgar. To Aerith. He isn’t sure what he’ll find there. Apparently whatever Zack and Aerith had between them was _years_ ago. So much has changed since then. And Aerith…well, it sounds like she’s moving on.

They’re going to her anyways. She’s the only person Zack can go to now. He needs to apologize. Hopefully she’ll understand and he can make up for any hurt he’s caused her. And…

Maybe it’s a selfish wish, but he hopes it will be safe. A soft place to land while he and Cloud get back on their feet. When Cloud wakes up, he’ll get along with her; it’s hard _not_ to love Aerith.

They just have to get there first. Thankfully they’re not too far now, having already crossed the ocean and snuck their way out of Junon. The stolen motorbike crapped out on them a few days ago and now they are back to stumbling forward on foot.

They’ve just set up camp for the night. After the past few days, Zack could use some stress relief.Some comfort. Cloud too, probably. He always starts with Cloud — wants to make sure that Cloud feels good, that Cloud isn’t left needing anything. It’s an implicit thumbs-up, in Zack’s head. If Cloud’s hard, if Cloud’s _wanting,_ then he doesn’t need Cloud to say anything for it to be okay.

He has Cloud splayed out and open with the bedroll underneath him. He doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, after all. Zack lets his hands trail up Cloud’s thighs softly, enjoying the feeling of lean muscle under his fingers. Cloud is so cute like this. He’s always been cute, though; Zack is man enough to admit it. Cloud has a sweet face and big blue eyes and a plush little mouth. He’s delicate, flirting on girlish, and it makes Zack ache to touch him.

He’s learned over the weeks and the months what Cloud likes — or rather, what makes Cloud climax quickly. He likes to tease, though. He likes to draw it out so that Cloud can experience the pleasure even longer. It has nothing to do with how seeing Cloud _responsive —_ gasping and shakingand once even moaning underneath him — effects him.

He keeps teasing for a bit, snaking one hand underneath Cloud’s sweater to begin playing with a nipple until it’s hard and pebbled under his fingers. A sigh escapes from Cloud’s mouth when he moves to the other nipple. Gotta keep things equal, after all. Doesn’t want to play favorites. Zack smiles, presses a ghost of a kiss against the exposed skin of his stomach.

“That feel good, Spike?” he asks in a whisper. He takes Cloud’s silence for a yes.

When he works his way back down Cloud’s torso, between Cloud’s legs, he sees that he’s half-hard already just from the gentle petting. No judgement, though — Zack is too. He smiles again and strokes him once through the thick fabric. Underneath him, Cloud shudders, hips pressing up at the sensation and a tiny furrow between his brows. Must feel good, it _must_ because Zack isn’t hearing any differently.

He doesn’t want to tease too badly, and more importantly he doesn’t want to get Cloud’s only pair of pants all gross. That’d just be rude — even if the mental image of Cloud laying there in ruined pants stained with cum makes his gut clench tight. There’s something to the idea of him laying there utterly debauched…

Before he knows it, he’s working his fingers beneath Cloud’s waistband and pulls them down swiftly, letting Cloud’s cock spring free. There’s already plenty of precum dripping from the tip. He spreads it gently with his thumb until Cloud is all shiny and slick in his hand.

Underneath him, Cloud lets out a soft sigh and the muscles of his thighs twitch. Zack takes that a a sign to keep working at him, slow and gentle. Cloud’s thighs twitch again, and then again, and when his hips start to press up into Zack’s hands, he speeds up just enough to make Cloud’s entire body tremble from sensation. Cloud makes another sound of pleasure, some half-coherent whine but Zack doesn’t have to know what he’s trying to say to know that it feels good. His own pants are becoming uncomfortably tight now, fueled by all the pretty noises Cloud is making.

Zack strokes him steadily, drinking in the sight of Cloud shuddering beneath him, thrusting up into _his_ hand, seeking _him_ out for more contact. It’s a heady feeling. He almost feels dizzy with his desire and desperation. Cloud must be close, because Zack can see the way his thighs contract, the way he seems to tense underneath him, all those lean muscles contracting and tightening in unison, his back arching up off the ground and more of those little unconscious noises escaping his throat.

“There we go,” Zack mumbles, “so good, so close, huh? Feels good?”

He keeps up the stream of unanswered questions and quiet praise as he continues to stroke Cloud closer and closer to completion until it must be too much, until he’s tumbled over the edge with a strangled half-groan.

Cloud lays there, face flushed and hair mussed, the skin of his stomach splattered with white. The afterglow suits him, makes him look _alive_ again, like he’s just sleepy. Zack is never going to get tired of seeing him like this.

He presses a kiss again to the skin of Cloud’s abdomen. The urge to taste him hits Zack suddenly, and he doesn’t even fight against the impulse before his tongue is sneaking out to lick a stripe of cum clean. It’s salty and bitter, but it’s also _Cloud._ That more than anything makes him want more. Something deep within him is so hungry for _anything_ Cloud will give him.

“Gimme a moment here, Spike. Let me get you all cleaned up…”

He pays each inch of skin close, devoted attention as he kisses and licks his way up Cloud’s soft belly until it’s clean again. Then he repeats the motions, again and again until there are no more traces of salt left on his tongue. There is only the soft, mild taste of Cloud’s skin. It seems important that he’s thorough. He doesn’t want a single drop to go to waste when it seems _right,_ somehow, that Zack to do this for him. One last kiss, and then he’s sitting back on his heels, tugging Cloud’s sweater back down and his pants back up.

He takes a moment to readjust them, tugging Cloud’s limp body up onto his knees. Cloud’s mouth parts easily when he places a thumb on his bottom lip. Heat curls tight in his gut at the sight and he feels himself grow impossibly harder. He trusts him so much and Zack knows deep down that he wants this too. Why would his mouth open for him otherwise?

He pulls his own neglected cock out now, achingly hard, before he rubs himself across Cloud’s open lips. Can’t help but sigh at the feeling of that soft, warm mouth. Cloud’s so good, so fucking good for him. He smears his precum messily across Cloud’s waiting lips, drawing it out, letting his need build until he’s thinking of nothing else but this.

In that moment he pushes past Cloud’s lips, deeper into his mouth, savoring the heat of him around his cock. It feels so good, he can’t help but let a needy moan escape him. It seems like the entire world shrinks down to this: Cloud, open and easy around him, even as he swallows unconsciously. Cloud, warm and slick with spit, taking Zack so well.

“Doin’ great, Cloudy,” Zack praises, running a hand through those cute blonde spikes.

He lets out a deep groan as Cloud swallows gently around him once more, and then uses the hand in Cloud’s hair to start guiding his head. Cloud’s so inviting, so open for him.

The sight of Cloud’s head slowly bobbing on his cock, sweet pink lips stretched around him, chin slick and shiny with the drool he can’t swallow fast enough — it makes Zack’s blood pulse loudly in his ears, makes some satisfied feeling curl up heavy in his chest. _Fuck._ This feels good, feels incredible, feels so right that every cell in his body sings for it. It’s still not enough. They could still get closer. 

So Zack thrusts in carefully, gently — savoring the feeling as he slides his cock deeper. As deep as he can. Cloud doesn’t gag around him, even as Zack bottoms out at the back of his throat. He can feel the walls of Cloud’s throat flutter unconsciously around the intrusion, and he can feel the press of Cloud’s nose against his skin.

He draws back slowly before sliding back into that easy slick warmth, over and over again as the heat gathered low in his core begins to burn brighter and hotter. Cloud swallows sometimes, and at least twice he makes some kind of noise, muffled with Zack’s cock in his mouth, the vibrations sending thrills of sensation running through him. It feels so good, so right, so perfect that Zack wishes they could just stay here forever like this. His thoughts are swirling together _._ He finds himself gripping Cloud’s hair tighter and pressing himself deeper on pure instinct.

He’s so close. He can feel himself begin to babble again, a careless stream of “ _Fuck_ , Cloud, you feel so good, look at you, fucking incredible, taking me so well…” on and on until it’s almost too much.

He pulls Cloud’s mouth off of him then in one swift motion — there’s a thick strand of drool connecting them from the tip of his cock to Cloud’s lips — and pants slightly, trying to catch his breath before his hand is moving like he’s on autopilot. He strokes himself, harder than usual, twisting his wrist at the bottom and rubbing his thumb over his slit at the top.

The heat and tension in his gut is tensing, coiling, and he can feel it growing tighter and tighter. He clenches his eyes shut and continues working himself over until — he’s close, so close, _too fucking close_ as his vision goes white and his orgasm shudders through him with a moan.

For a long second all he can do is breathe.

When Zack finally opens his eyes again and looks down, there’s Cloud waiting with his hollow eyes. He looks good though, his mouth hanging softly open and his face messy with thick white ropes of cum. He’d look even better awake, Zack bets. What kind of expression would he have on his face then? Would he blush, embarrassed to let Zack see him like this? Would he have that fierce spark in his eyes, angry that Zack finished on his face? 

Zack reaches down to swipe through it idly. It’s already cooled compared to Cloud’s warmth.

He pauses, his thumb resting at the corner of Cloud’s mouth, drawing it open further soft and heavy. There’s a streak of pearly white on his cheek. Quickly — before he loses the courage — he smears it messily into Cloud’s waiting mouth, onto his tongue, to the back of his throat.

Cloud doesn’t gag, even with Zack’s finger halfway down his throat. He doesn’t make a face at the taste. Just accepts it, accepts _Zack_ , swallowing him down. What Zack wants is to be pressed up against him, forever, until there’s no space left between them. But he’ll settle for this.

He sighs and wipes the rest of Cloud’s face off. He’ll get them ready for bed and then wrap them up in the bedroll. Tomorrow they’ll continue stumbling onwards.

But here, right now, he’s grateful for: the Midgar skyline just barely visible on the horizon, the smell of a summer rainstorm about to start, and the way that Cloud still swallows — trustingly, unknowingly —when prompted to.


End file.
